


An Age of Change

by M_C_Crocker



Category: Assassin's Creed, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action, Community: HPFT, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 19:56:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8174072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M_C_Crocker/pseuds/M_C_Crocker
Summary: Varric is visited by an almost forgotten friend who tells him that world as they know it might be in danger once more and his help is needed to stop the Assassins and new Templar Order from creating an even bigger mess of things.Fic 2 for Rumpelstiltskin's Companion Piece Challenge





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 2 of a companion piece challenge that was issued by Rumpelstiltskin of the HPFT community. The piecea are related due to their light cross over with Assassins Creed, each feature an older version of the characters of the game, each story stands alone yet builds on the other, there is light battle sequence in each story and the word 'age' is in every title to name a few correlations. The other two stories are "A Forgotten Age" and "The End of an Age"
> 
> The image is by Alexis Black

 

"Must you always slip out to that ridiculous pub, sir?" asked a tired looking and graying Seneschal Bran.

"One, the Hanged Man is not ridiculous. Two, I thought you would be retired by now," answered Varric, his voice more graveled by age. His voice and hair both betrayed his actual age, though he acted and moved like a much younger dwarf. It was probably because he never stopped, there was almost always something.

It had started with Hawke, continued with the Inquisitor and his life still didn't show signs of slowing down. While keeping busy had been good for him, he still wasn't fond of what currently kept him in such a state. He loathed the position of Viscount and yet was an elected official and running an entire city-state. Still, he kept the position to spite the nobles who elected him as he did indeed abuse his power. He made sure that after cleaning things up in the city, with his own coin, that they regretted putting him in power, and probably none more than Bran.

The man let out a weary sigh, "You won't let me, sir."

Varric let out a throaty laugh. He knew full well how he tried and wearied Bran, but he felt like he was good for him, as he attempted to get him to relax some. Though, if the man hadn't relaxed yet, he probably never would and his efforts were a lost cause, but it was funny as Andraste's dimpled buttcheeks to see the man all worked up.

"Why don't you join me, Bran? There is always room for another at the Wicked Grace table and I know a certain bar maid that would be perfect for you." Varric knew the answer before he even asked the question.

Bran held up a hand as if pushing away the offer. "As always, I would rather not."

He permanently seemed so repulsed by the idea of going to the local pub. There was nothing wrong with the Hanged Man. Sure it was in Low Town, but it was the best pub around. For a time it was his home and was one of the few places not owned by the guild. Though he no longer lived there, it was where he could catch the latest gossip and play a good game of Wicked Grace.

"Your loss," answered Varric with a wave of his hand as he started to leave the keep.

"Do remember not to bet public buildings or official titles."

Varric shook his head, "I only bet the things I paid for." He didn't look back as he stepped out the door despite the protests coming from the other man as the heavy door closed behind him. He adjusted Bianca, his cross bow whom he was never far from, and started to traipse down the forever longs stairs that led from the keep to High Town. He kept on his guard once there because the real danger was High Town rather than Low Town.

Still, his reputation preceded him and he came across no problems, at least this time he did not. It was kind of surprising to be honest. He hadn't been in a real fight for a time, but usually Bianca got to see a little bit of action, yet nothing. It was one of those things while there were those who avoided him because they knew who he was, there were others that went after him for the very same reason. It was truthfully kind of eerie how silent and empty the streets were.

The disquiet that he felt about this journey into Low Town was erased when he entered into the pub and his name was called out by a number of patrons. "Varric!"

That was probably one of the best parts of the pub; it was a place where everyone knew your name. He moved his hand in greeting and then gestured for a drink to be brought to him as he settled in for a night of cards.

"Alright ladies." The gravelly voice matched the man’s jagged scar beneath his right eye. It was clear he had seen better days and that there was a rough edge about it.

To be honest, everyone had a bit of an edge to them, but that was to be expected in the company of rouges and braggarts. After all, a few of the regular players had been men who had once been hired to kill Hawke, which of course did not turn out the way they had anticipated when they took the job.

"Normal rules apply, and let’s try and keep it above table, hmm?"

There was no pomp and circumstance to the start of the game as the cards were dealt and the game commenced. Varric was brought his drink and it seemed that the night of cards was going to be a good one if his present hand was any indication. He had a number of face cards, more than was typical for a first hand, but he was going to take the luck he got. However as he looked one in particular, his mind drifted to a memory of playing Wicked Grace with several members on the Inquisition including the Inquisitor himself. During that game, Cole had taken to talking to the face cards about a head having a crown and sword, but not wanting either. It was funny how of all the times that he had played the game that particular bit of the night did not play in his mind till now. It was like he had forgotten.

The game continued and Lady Luck just seemed to continue to smile on him that night as his winnings continued to grow at an unbelievable rate. It got to the point that he was even jibbed for playing things under the table as well as over. It wasn't a real threat, considering that Varric hadn't been, and the man who had accused him of doing such was playing under the table himself. Sure, it may have been a rule to play straight, but everyone cheated here and there. It was part of the game, at least at this table.

"Cards on tables for all to see, but secrets must be kept hidden," said a disembodied voice that gave Varric a start.

"Kid?" he asked swearing that he had heard Cole speak, but it was clear that no one else had heard what he had.

"Who you callin' kid?" asked one of the players.

"Sorry thought I heard someone I haven't seen in a long time, but just my ears playing tricks on me." Varric waved for another drink and tried to re-focus on the game.

Edwina, who was showing her age, brought him another drink, but before he could take a sip from the new craft he heard the voice of Cole loud and clear once again.

"A man and a woman at the same time wishing to be one and always ever the other."

Varric set his drink down and saw Cole as young as he ever was standing in the corner with his large brimmed hat.

"Kid?" croaked Varric once more now gathering the notice of the others. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd gone on to wherever spirits like you go."

"I am there, but also here. Other places, never same always changing here and gone. Never seen, only remembered yet forgotten, only those he seek find, they remember when needed and otherwise forget. It is best to be forgotten. You don’t not always not all of it, remembering some but not others till I helped you."

Varric shook his head not understanding the spirit. Cole always was a bit odd and since becoming less human his words made less sense.

"Hey deal me out of the hand," he said to the table, none even noticing that Varric had been listening to another person entirely.

"Running away with your winnings before I can cream you, eh?"

Varric laughed, "You can keep telling yourself that, but it's actually me doing you a favor and letting you go home with your dignity."

"The faces do not like him. Give everything and you shall be given," said Cole whispering into the player’s ear.

He then darted over to the Bar Keep. "Soothing words with another drink will keep you from being alone."

Varric watched as Cole flitted to a few others unnoticed and unseen as he collected his winnings and gestured for the spirit only he could see and remember to follow him.

"Hurting, wanting, longing, needs, never ending."

"It's called the human condition, something I don't think you can quite understand anymore," answered Varric, moving to a more private area to talk with Cole, something no one questioned either. Whether Cole made it so or because most people just didn't question him much, Varric didn't bother to try and determine which it was.

"I can help."

"You can, Kid, just not everyone and not all the time." Varric shook his head. He liked Cole and he always thought well of the kid, but knowing what was lost to him as a human always made him a little sad.

"The bigger the problem, when fixed, the more people are helped. They don't know, but they are happy and it is better for all."

Varric laughed a little. "You are right there."

"People need help, Varric."

There was a note of desperation in Cole's voice, an emotion the dwarf hadn't seen from the kid since the change and it caused his brow to furrow.

"A breech small but big, it changes, changes it all. More breeches, things will break it will come crashing down. Few know, end of days it ripples back a choice to be made. Someone will die or all will die!"

Varric leaned forward. He didn't know exactly what was going on, but he didn't like the sound of things. Breeches and death, those were not good things. It was enough for him even if he didn't get all of Cole's meaning.

"Reflections are not our own. More than just images. The path is unclear."

"What do you need, Kid?"

"Help."

With that Cole was gone. Varric was left sitting there alone even as the conversation he just had seemed to threaten to vanish from his memories. Stubbornly, he refused to let it go. He reviewed it over and over. Cole needed help, but he didn't know what kind of help. That was one problem. Kid thought he was being detailed and clear, but his words were always a mystery.

"Shit," said Varric finally as he realized that he was on the precipice of another world saving adventure and this time he might very well be alone.

Something niggled at his mind. Cole had mentioned reflections and paths. It made him think of the Eluvian, the Elvhen mirror that Daisy once had. The Inquisitor had used one to travel between locations when chasing after the Qunarri. The mirrors led to places that ended up being so much more. They were bad news and Varric thought that part of the story had come to an end, but it seemed that there was possibly another out there, that had survived everything. The only question then, if one still existed, where where was it ?

He needed help and couldn't do this alone, just like Cole couldn't either. Who could he ask? Who was still left? Who could still be reached? Then the answer came to him. The one person who probably knew everything and where everyone was though sheer connection of her title alone: Divine Justinia.

Without a second thought, he sat there in the pub and penned a letter right then and there detailing everything that had happened that night and included some of his theories. If there was anything that she had heard or come across that might be a lead, he was certain the Divine would tell him. It was funny how they were once again left on the precipice of trying to save the world. How many times had it been now? Three? Four? It was funny how one started to lose count.

“If I wrote this in one of my books, no one would believe this shit.”

It took several days for Varric to receive a return letter after sending his out and he was quick to read it, of course.

_Varric,_

_You can only imagine my surprise when I received a letter from you. Considering the gravity of the contents of your letter, I will skip pleasantries and formalities. It is most disconcerting to hear that you have heard from Cole whom we all thought had moved on. Even more so the fact that he is asking for help to save what sounds like not only our world, but perhaps others?_

_In our time working together I have seen and experienced many strange things, but to think in such a way as Cole presented things? I shudder at the thought. Of course, his plea cannot be left unanswered and you are right that most of the Eluvian has been destroyed, and with good reason, but there have been rumors of a mirror in the Kokari Wilds. I'm sure it does not take much for you to guess who might be involved._

_Morigan isn't the only one that has given me pause based on Cole's words of warning. This small breech he speaks of seems to harken unto a rather recent experience that Dorian had. It is best you don't know how I know, only that I do, but he had a peculiar encounter with some young mages and a few of their associates. They possessed magic beyond what is known to us and before much could become of the situation, they seemingly vanished into thin air. Only proof of their existence is a coin, one I am told that had been turning up with more and more frequency across all the lands of Thedas. The symbols on it have been known to turn up in the most peculiar of places as well. I've enclosed a copy of the coin. I am hoping you might have more luck finding information on it than myself as there are certain things I cannot do and places I cannot go as the Divine._

_I wish you luck in your endeavors to get to the bottom of this mystery. May Andraste guide us all._

_\- Divine Justina_

Varric looked over the coin that was sent him. It was neither new nor was it old, and it had a strange upside down tapered 'V' on one side and a type of cross on the other. Varric hadn't readily seen either before, but he didn't frequent the areas where he might as often anymore. He did, however, know those who did and had a feeling that where the likeness of the coin was most apt to show up would be Dark Town.

Sure enough, with a little bit of digging through a number of his contacts, his theory came back solid. Along with those reports came words of a few shady characters as well. They had taken up residence in Ander’s old clinic. No one was willing to risk their necks to dig further into the matter, nor did they know the exact details of what he was looking for. This meant that if his investigation were to go any further, he was going to have to travel down there himself. That meant he was going to need a bit of back up. Of course, he would have preferred none other than Hawke to go down with him, but that was no possible and Varric knew that well, so he went with one of the best options he could think of available to him there in Kirkwall.

"Freckles! How life as the new guard captain treating you?" called out Varric beaming as he sauntered into the office of Guard Captain Hendry.

It was amusing how the boy followed in the footsteps of his parents by entering the guard. Many tried to speculate that he got the position as a type of favor considering he was the son of former Guard Captain Aveline and her husband Donnic Hendry, personal friends of Varric, who of course happened to be Viscount. That wasn’t true, and when the position was challenged Freckles always showed them up, proving he was the captain of the guard because of his skills not his connections, much as his mother did when rumors floated around regarding her and Hawke’s position of influence in the city.

"How many times do I have to ask that you not call me that?"

"Sorry, the name Red is taken by your mother."

"But you never call her that."

Varric gave a shrug of his shoulder. It was true that he didn’t because she didn’t like the name and she intimidated him more than her son did. Something about seeing a person in diapers takes a bit of the frightening edge off of a person. He waited though, for the next obvious question to be asked.

"What brings you to the barracks, Varric?" The suspicious look on the young man's face was unmistakable. He would never do well at a game of Wicked Grace.

"I need a favor, Freckles."

"You know I always dread those words. What trouble have you brought to Kirkwall this time?"

Varric gave a gravely chuckle. "I swear! I didn't bring it this time. This was already here and I'd like to go check it out."

"Personally?"

"Yeah, I owe a favor to an old friend."

"Not that blond elf girl!"

"Buttercup? I haven't heard from her in a long while, last I knew she retired." Of course Sera was 'retired' back in the day when she had paid a visit, but Varric was not going to point that out.

"She set the whole guard on edge stealing their uniforms and leaving the Blooming Rose liveries in their place!"

"I promise no cod pieces or bikinis for your guards men; actually we can leave them out altogether."

Freckles furrowed his brow. "Then what is it you want, Varric?"

"A friend, someone I can rely on and know that he's got my back."

"You mean someone more than Bianca?"

"Yeah, Bianca is good in a pinch, but Dark Town is a little more than the ordinary."

"Dark Town! Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"

"Because it is the smart feeling to have. Now, are you in or am I going to have to go down there alone with only Bianca at my side?"

"You'll go with or without me, won't you?" asked the Guard Captain as he folded his arms across his chest in such an Aveline way that Varric could almost swear he was reliving the past.

"You got it."

"Fine, but I'm taking Ahote with us."

"I'm feeling better about this trip all ready, an armed Guard Captain and a Viscount can seem like easy pickings. A Mabari war hound however, will give certain bandits pause. Maybe not all of them, but a few extras at least."

"I am going to live to regret this."

"That’s the aim: living."

Freckles rolled his eyes and asked when they should meet. Varric opted for the soonest possible moment when he could convince Bran he wasn’t leaving to take his life into his own hands again. Of course, that was the tricky part considering that man knew his every move now. In the end, Varric was not much able to pull the wool over the Seneschal’s eyes, but he did assure the other man that he would be back hopefully before night fall and that he was going out with the Guard Captain of all people to help ensure his safety. He also made out that they were leaving the walls of Kirkwall to investigate the Wounded Coast, which might be just a little less safe than Low Town if there were bandits about like Varric hinted. It was better than saying the truth of Dark Town, and while Bran was not satisfied wishing for a full guard to go in his stead, Varric managed to talk down that idea and give the Seneschal the slip with promises once again of a safe return.

At the entrance leading into Dark Town the three of them, Varric, Freckles and Ahote, paused.

"Dark Town," said Varric "One of my not so favorite places to visit."

"Didn't that apostate mage that Hawke befriend live down here?"

"Yeah, Blondie. It was the only place he could be 'safe,' all things considered, but it doesn't exactly speak well for the place."

Ahote let out a small whine as they made their way down to the levels that comprised Dark Town.

"I know, boy, I don't like the smell either,” said Freckles.

"Reminds me of Hawke's hound. I taught him to play Wicked Grace too."

"Ahote is one of the pups of his old hound and you are not teaching him Wicked Grace." Freckles’ eyebrows darted towards his hairline.

"No worries, I don't think he has quite the same talent. Also, fair warning but the smell gets worse the deeper we go in."

"Exactly what I needed to hear," said Freckles with well-practiced sarcasm as the three of them continued on.

It had been decades since he traveled the paths of Dark Town and yet Varric knew it well having come on more than one occasion with Hawke. The faces may have changed, but nothing else had. The smell, the paths, they never altered. Their presence there, of course, didn't go unmarked. While many didn't know that they were looking upon the Viscount down here, they knew he didn't belong and they watched the small band carefully. The only reason they hadn't met trouble yet was because one had to be out of their mind to go up against a Mabari dog, a man with a cross bow and a clear member of the guard. Freckles was not hard to place. He may not venture down to Dark Town often, but most down here knew who was on the guard and particularly the head of it; that was part of basic survival skills, to be honest. The same was true of Aveline when she came down here with Hawke. People had known who she was, second only to Hawke. There was still trouble as there was always trouble for those who travel in Dark Town, almost more back then as Hawke and trouble sort of went hand in hand. There was just a little less common trouble sometimes when Aveline had been present, and Varric hoped for the same today, as he didn’t expect to keep from some uncommon trouble. He had a feeling they would not wind up that lucky.

Initial reactions seemed to indicate that the Guard Captain theory was holding, and they made it all the way to Ander's old clinic, of all the places for his lead to take him. Varric dismissed his wandering thoughts. Blondie was long dead, though his impact on the world still remained. Sure things were better now after the whole mess with Solas being Fenherel. There had actually been a bit of peace since then but still Varric couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if Hawke had been able to stop Anders before he blew things up. That was perhaps musings for another book, but there were more pressing matters are present to deal with. Scratched on the door were the same upside down tapered 'V' on one door and the cross on the other identical to the coin.

"This is the spot," remarked Varric, reaching up to lightly touch the symbols as his eyes darted around the frame of the doors. He wanted to be sure there were no traps laid for an unsuspecting wanderer or intruder and sure enough he saw the outlines of one.

"It is clear they don't want uninvited guests," he observed as he pulled out a worn thieves kit.

"You know I should report that," said Freckles, glancing at Varric's work before keeping an eye out for anyone approaching from behind.

Varric gave a soft laugh. "To who? You are talking to the Viscount; there is no power higher than me, at least not here."

Freckles gave a shake of his head; he was so much like his mother.

"Your disapproval is duly noted, but it's what will get us in alive to look into things that I'm hoping aren't as big as rumors make it out to be."

"If it is as big as rumors make things out to be, which you have not bothered to fill me in on, then the concern may not be getting in, but rather, getting out."

"Why do you think I brought you along, Freckles? I knew I couldn't do this on my own and I'm being an optimist for once. Besides if I gave you the full details then you wouldn't have come or would have sent an entire squadron, which would have buried things so deep they would never be found."

The Guard Captain gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes looking back at Varric before taking in their surroundings once more. Ahote was also on guard. He wasn't growling, but his hackles were raised which indicated that something was not one hundred percent on the level.

"There we have it," said Varric putting away his tools and straightening up from his crouched position. "You'll want to be on your guard - no telling what is beyond the door." He pulled out his crossbow just in case, allowing his fingers to caress the stock for a moment.

"Already on it," answered Freckles pulling out his shield and sword.

Varric pushed the now harmless door open to reveal a rather empty room where there was very little of note. There were a few spots that it was easy to tell were makeshift beds with thin worn blankets and a meager smattering of hay that Varric was sure made no difference in comfort. Aside from that, there was a location with a few tomes, scattered papers and a vial or two of unknown substance on what he supposed could be called a desk. If Varric didn't know better the place could easily pass as still being occupied by Blondie.

Varric scanned for potential hidden opponents lurking in the dark ready to attack or added traps, but there were none to be found. Freckles did the same keeping on guard while Ahote went to sniff the left behind bedding.

"We don't want to stay long," advised Varric. If they could get in and out without being noticed they would be better off for it and he would consider himself one damn lucky dwarf.

"You're the one that wanted to come here, Varric."

"Point taken." A laugh escaped Varric's lips as he moved toward the table trying not to waste a moment of time. He started to sift through the papers brow furrowed in confusion and concentration.

_Much like the Templars of old, control is what is needed. Instead, with our new order, we will not be subduing magic or a select group of people, but rather all people. People are like sheep and must be guided, they do not always know what is best for them and if not placed under tight control will stray from the truth path that the Maker would have us on. He created magic to serve mankind and that service does entail keeping them from harm even self-harm._

"Mage Templars? Now I've seen everything."

"What?" asked Freckles, approaching closer to read over Varric's shoulder.

_Our tenants are not solely based on former Templar order, but also the order of the Assassin. While there have been guilds of Assassins, each have had their own creed and motto, and most have grown fat on profit and chaos, something we, the new Templar order, stand against. However the pure Assassin code crafted properly can be applied. We must remember how nothing is true and everything is permitted. We work in the dark to serve the light.*_

Varric sifted through a few more documents about various artifacts and rituals, and missives about attempting to achieve their ends. Supposedly things were spear headed by a Merva and Uno with the help of a few others.

"This isn't good," said Freckles in a very warry tone having read much of the same that Varric did.

"You aren't kidding," remarked Varric taking a few documents. He had to get this to the others. They had to know what was going on. None of this bode well. Blood magic and the uses of the items that were being created all meant bad news. Varric turned to lead the way out when all of a sudden, as if from thin air, Cole appeared.

"They are coming!"

Freckles and Ahote turned their guard and attention to Cole.

"The kid is good, he's with me," barked Varric readying Bianca. "Don't let me down, baby," he said softly to her as three people came rushing in, all clearly mages.

It was not hard to tell that there would be no dialogue and the only way out was a fight. Cole had his blades drawn and vanished as a spell was casted in his direction and reappeared behind the female attacker.

Varric fired a shot at one of the males as Freckles and Ahote charged the other. If these people were normal fighters rather than mages the odds of four to one, five if you counted Bianca, were pretty good, but with mages however things got tricky. They could cast spells when down, heal and create shields if skilled properly. Varric had a few potencies and salves as he was sure Freckles did too, but they weren't as effective as a full-on healing spell. With that in mind it was going to be a challenge to say the least. Lucky for them Cole was a spirit and could easily avoid damage. His own bolts tended to fly true with Bianca, as there was not a single crossbow better than her. It helped that Freckles and Ahote were not trained just yesterday.

The bolt he fired ended up grazing the man's shoulder and slowed him down, though a sour look came over the mage's face as he waved his stave. Varric hoped that these weren't blood mages, though based on the documents he read he wouldn't be surprised if they were. It would make a bad situation even worse not only because there was a far greater supply of blood to use to fuel their magic than there were lyrim stores, but that opened things up further to the use of daemons and the creation of abominations. Bad news, both of them. Of course having the Kid to help them out was something. Cole had a way with others from the Fade.

Either way, he couldn't take the time just yet to determine what was fueling the magic, blood or lyrim, as he had to do a tumbling roll backwards to just dodge the spell that was flew overhead. As he moved, he quickly applied another bolt to Bianca and aimed for the mage's foot. It would be a pinning shot, in a bid to distract the one mage and fire at the others. There was something about shots in the foot; they were excruciatingly painful and demanded some attention.

The bolt was loosed and hit his target as intended; the male mage let out a cry of agony and focused on his foot rather than the fight. This gave Varric an extra moment more as he set up his next shot. It was a tricky one, but Bianca was up to the task. Her bowstring thrummed as three bolts flew in rapid succession, one for each mage. Perhaps it would buy them the time they needed to get the upper hand and stop these mages.

Varric was not unaccustomed to having to fight to the death. Of course, he never had the opportunity to be on the dying end of things - thank Andraste - but he had seen a fair bit of death in his time, and he knew that was a distinct possibility that he would see it again today. At the same time if they could keep at least one of the mages alive then they would be able to have someone to question about this new Templar order. They could possibly get a better picture of what was going on and maybe even know how to stop any further trouble before it started.

"Keep one alive if you can!" shouted Varric as he set up for another shot. He wasn’t going to hold his breath on this, but it was worth a try. Before he could pull the trigger on Bianca again, he was hit with a fairly painful spell that felt worse than a punch in the gullet.  
"Note to self, worry less about sparing the lives of the enemy and more about saving your own hide. Signed, your gullet." Varric muttered to himself as he groaned a little bit and tried to focus on the task at hand. He had to fire off another shot and yet the pain from the spell continued to spread and he felt ready to double over.

He managed to shoot another bolt into the air, aiming it at the one he had been shooting before. It pierced the mage’s neck, which in Varric’s experience generally proved fatal. He didn't get to act again as the pain from the spell was indeed too much. He wasn't sure what had been cast on him, but he certainly didn't like it and he wasn't sure she had a potion to counter act it. He groaned in pain as he crashed to the floor uncertain if he would make it out of this one as the world started to go black. As if from a distance, he could make the shout of Freckles calling out his name. If this was the end, Varric accepted it and simply hoped that someone would at least tell a decent story about how he died.

However, death was not quite ready to take him, or so Varric discovered as he let out a horrible groan his innards feeling like they had been turned inside out. Either it wasn't dead of heaven wasn't all it was cracked up to be and Varric spoke the only word becoming of the present situation.

"Shit."

"Good, you are awake," said a very bustily and authoritative looking healer.

"How long was I out?" asked Varric trying to set up before the world started to spin.

"You may be awake and better, but that doesn't mean you are fully healed or able to get up."

"That didn't answer my question, Doc." Varric decided to use the shortened version of the name given healers who studying the art of it, but possessed no magic; he enjoyed the irony in the name he decided to use. The healer frowned at the name and continued.

"Three days, and you should be grateful for that as you missed out on the ravings of the Seneschal who was most displeased with the fact that you had been to Dark Town rather than the Wounded Coast.”

Varric tried to laugh, but it was more a rasp that made him feel more tired. Doc wasn't kidding about not being fully healed. “I’m sure he’s saved a special speech for me when I’m back on my feet.”

"I would not be surprised. I’ve had to bar him from my clinic, but I believe the Guard Captain would like a word with you if you are feeling up to it. Though, I advise not to strain yourself too much as you were hit by a particularly nasty spell that nearly killed you. You were lucky the Captain brought you here just in time.”

“Yeah, you can let him in. I promise to take it easy, Doc.”

Varric shifted on the cot that he was laying on, wincing in pain as Freckles came in a look of relief flooding his face.

“I’m glad to see you back with us, Varric. I don’t think my mom would have ever forgiven me if I let you die on my watch.”

Varric kept from laughing and gave a bit of a smile. “What happened? I know I was hit and went down and you clearly managed the other two mages…”

“Yeah it was the craziest thing that spirit person. He heard me call your name and things suddenly shifted, a - a sudden drop in temperature like something otherworldly was about to descend down on us. I thought briefly that one of the mages was summoning a demon or that your friend was not as good as you would have liked. He called out your name and almost as if consumed in a rage, he sliced the throat of the woman. Before I could act, he was on the other mage, stabbing him in the back. His face was dark with the purest anger I ever saw. He came to stand over you and I thought I was going to have to fight him over you. But then the darkness faded as he knelt next to you, Varric. Said you were dying and that I needed to get you to a healer. He asked me to please help his friend as if he was pained by the idea of you being hurt. He then vanished. I didn’t think spirits had emotion, at least not like that.”

“Maybe there is still a bit of human left in him after all,” mumbled Varric smiling a little bit.

“Human?” asked the Guard Captain.

“It’s a long story, and we need to get the papers we gathered to the Divine.”

**Author's Note:**

> * The quote it take from the Assassins Creed Games.


End file.
